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Oh, Erin, my country! though sad and forsaken,
In dreams I re-visit thy sea-beaten shore, But, alas ! in a far distant land I awaken,
And sigh for the friends I shall never see more. And thou, cruel fate, wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace, where no peril can chase me, Ah, never again shall my brothers embrace me,
They died to defend me, or live to deplore. Where now is my cabin-door, so fast by the wild
wood ? Sisters and sire all weep for its fall,Where is the mother that look'd on my childhood ?
And where is the bosom-friend dearer than all ?
But raptures and beauty they cannot recall.
One dying wish my fond bosom shall draw. Erin, an exile bequeaths thee his blessing,—
Land of my forefathers, Erin go bragh! Buried and cold, when my heart stills its motion, Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean, And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotion,
Erin ma vourneen, sweet Erin go bragh !
HERE'S A HEALTH.
HERE's a health to all good lasses,
THE POST CAPTAIN.
When Steerwell heard me first impart
Our brave commander's story, With ardent zeal, his youthful heart
Swell'd high for naval glory ;
For bold adventures eager,
He would hold on the jigger.
&c. The hand top-ga'ntsails next he learn’d,
With quickness, care, and spirit,
And priz'd his dawning merit :
When storms convuls'd the ocean,
Which mark'd him for promotion.
Luff, boy, luff, keep her near,
The foe he oft defeated ;
Post Captain he is rated :
Still bravely would defend her:
He'll prove his heart is tender.
Unaw'd, yet mild, to high and low,
Wounded tars share his wealth,
All the fleet drink his health.
BOUND 'PRENTICE TO A WATERMAN.
BOUND 'prentice to a waterman, I learn’d a bit to row,
But, bless your heart, I always was so gay, That to treat a little water-nymph, that took my heart I ran myself a bit in debt, and then I ran away.
Singing ri fol, &c. Board of man of war I enter'd next, and learn'd to
quaff good flip, And far from home we scudded on so gay, I ran my rigs, but lik’d so well my captain, crew, and
ship, That run what will, why, dam-me, if ever I run away.
Singing ri fol, &c. With Nelson I've sail'd the world around, and learn'd
a bit to fight, But somehow a prisoner I was ta’en. So, when my Spanish jailor to my dungeon show's
a light, I just blinded both his peepers, and I run away again.
Singing ri fol, &c.
I've run many risks in life, on ocean and on shore,
But always like a Briton got the day ; And fighting in old England's cause, I'll run as many
more, But let me meet ten thousand foes, will never run away.
Singing ri fol, &c.
FAIREST OF THE FAIR.
O NANNIE, wilt thou gang wi' me,
Nor sigh to leave the flaunting town ;
The lowly cot, and russet gown ?
Nae langer deck'd wi' jewels rare,
Where thou wast fairest of the fair!
O Nannie, when thou'rt far awa,
Wilt thou not cast a look behind ?
Nor shrink before the warping wind ?
Severest hardships learn to bear,
Where thou was fairest of the fair !
Thro' perils keen wi' me to gae ?
To share with him the pang of wae ?
Wilt thou assume the nurse's care,
Where thou wast fairest of the fair?
And when at last thy love shall die,
Wilt thou receive his parting breath ?
And cheer with smiles the bed of death ?
Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear ?
Where thou was fairest of the fair?
THE DEATH OF NELSON.
O’er Nelson's tomb, with silent grief oppress’d,
'Twas in Trafalgar's bay,
Each heart was bounding then ;
And hearts of oak our men.
Nor thought of home or beauty ;
England expects that every man
This day will do his duty." And now the cannons roar Along the affrighted shore
Our Nelson led the way,
For vic'try crown'd the day.